


Boiling Over

by Eternalxblossom



Category: Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-01-23 04:16:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21314026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternalxblossom/pseuds/Eternalxblossom
Summary: When Hailey walks into a drug bust with no back-up, she gets attacked and subsequently hurt. Jay was supposed to be on a stake-out, at Voight's orders. In a fit of rage and guilt, he blames Voight...and his feelings boil over.Hailey hears.
Relationships: Jay Halstead & Hailey Upton, Jay Halstead/Hailey Upton
Comments: 12
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

He didn’t know how he got here, now. He couldn’t remember the details.

The events of the last hour were swirling in his brain like a distant cry of mixed images he couldn't quite piece together, dancing along chaotically to the off-beat sound of gun-shots popping in the air, ear-splitting police sirens and high-speed chases on rooftops...

All he knew was that he saw red.

The moment Hailey fell down to the floor before his blood-shot eyes, a heart-tearing, choked cry roaring through her chest, as she clutched her busted shoulder in pain and agony, all bets were off. The offender struck her and ran away....and no matter how much she bit down hard on her bottom lip, urging the pain to stop enough for her to force her weakened body to move again...she couldn’t.

The damage was too severe.

In his frenzied state, toxic panic mixed with raw hurt coursing through his veins, Jay tried to physically fight Voight off, but his boss was relentless...or maybe the only one who held some semblance of self-control now. The sargeant stopped him by a breath, nearly tearing his jacket off to tiny pieces in the process. 

Because Jay was mere inches away from killing that bastard with his own two hands or drawing a bullet right through his skull.

He could. He would've. He didn't know he could be that man... until now...

He'd kill whoever dared to lay a single finger on Hailey without batting an eye.

The real reason _why_ was just as distant in his mind now...or maybe at the forefront of his scattered thoughts.

But it was one truth he'd _never_ admit out loud. 

He had no idea he just did. To _everyone_ who saw him today.

Sometime in between his confrontation with Voight and his frantic quest to reach his wounded partner's side, he vaguely registered Kim and Kevin chasing the suspect down on some dark alley, eventually apprehending him. Those were all the foggy specifics he _could_ recall.

Because, before he even knew it, another obstacle materialized itself before his eyes, keeping him away from his partner - the medical team forcefully pulling him away from her, only expanding that crushing tightness rising in his stomach and throat now. It wasn't long before his concern and unstoppable fury burst wide open like a can of soda.

The lid he had on his rage boiled over and there was only one destination...

In a heartbeat, his attention switched back to Voight, voice coming out ragged and raw as he growled at him...

Even from meters away, battled and bruised, with a bandaged shoulder, Hailey heard…maybe not the specifics either, but what was important - the _sound_ of his voice. Angry, rough but scared..._so_ scared.

Jay was too high strung to notice any of it.

Too _goddamn_ furious to hear the calm, detached, professional tones of Voight’s voice trying to scold him or maybe rein him in all the same.

“What were you thinking?” – his boss and the only real father figure he's ever known grabbed him by the shirt, roughly, brown-eyes boring into his like steely daggers. “You were one inch away from opening fire on an unarmed perpetrator. _One_—“

“What were YOU thinking?"

The words flew out of his mouth, nothing left in him to stop them.

He couldn't stop himself anymore.

Not when all he had now was that image...that faint trace of blood etched onto Hailey's bottom lip, that fleeting wave of helplessness in her eyes...

"....letting Hailey go in there alone?”

Voight crossed his arms, aggressively, ready to spew even more venomous fire at any point…but Jay was nowhere near backing down.

“You let her go in without back-up..” – the detective's voice morphed into a low, threatening rumble crashing against his ribs, every syllable shaking with anger and something _else_..

”I’m her…I’m her…” - he paused…then choked altogether, that single word he couldn't quite speak lingering on his lips, taunting him…

Because it was so close...

“Partner…”

But not close _enough._

Beat by beat, Jay’s tortured voice dropped into a mournful symphony of audible cracks, raining down one by one…

Hailey heard _that_, too...because even from afar, in spite of any distance separating them, physical or otherwise, the sound _still_ echoed in her.

“I wasn’t supposed to be on a stake-out, I was supposed to…“

_Protect her._

Voight’s stern gaze unknowingly softened, as he watched Jay wrestle with himself more and more, running an angry hand through his short hair, feet stomping the floor like he was urging it to ground him from below, limbs trembling with unchained rage...

But not at the perpetrator.

At…_himself._

“Upton is one of the best detectives I know…” – the sargeant clarified with nothing but honesty and professionalism, maintaining his usual tone, despite viewing the man before him as his own flesh and blood. “It was her call. Not yours, not mine.”

Unshed tears formed in Jay’s eyes, no notice or heads-up given, threatening to boil over, just like his self-control did…

“You say she’s your partner…sounds to me like you don’t trust her judgment—“

The fragile hold on his carefully hidden feelings was about to do the same…

“Of course I trust Hailey, that’s_ not_ what this is about—“

By this point, Jay was pacing back and forth erratically, unaware of his own anxious gestures…

“Then what is it?”

Until he stopped dead in his tracks, the spoken question only holding more unspoken ones underneath...

He couldn't answer any..

“We’re…we’re partners…" - the words dropped on impulse, like a mantra he kept repeating to himself, day in and day out...

Maybe if he said it enough, someday he would believe it, too..

"Next time, she’s...." - he rubbed his hands together, chewing on his bottom lip harshly until it almost bled, too, just like hers did..."_Not_ doing this alone.”

“And what if that won’t be your call to make?” – Voight grabbed his shoulders in an authoritative manner, forcing him to listen. Despite the height difference, under the weight of that disapproving gaze, he felt small…smaller than he should be, like a scolded child who knew he was in the wrong but was too stubborn to admit it. “I need to know that if Upton is ever in danger again and you can’t intervene…you won’t lose your head. Can you promise me that, Jay?”

Jay looked down with the mannerisms of a _wounded_ child now, a pang of guilt taking over unannounced yet again. The real answer was looming above, crushing him like no weight ever had…

And he carried plenty...more than a single man ever should have.

“Or I’m gonna have to assign her a new partner—“

“I can do it, sarge. I’m sorry…I don’t know what got into me.”

“Pull yourself together, Halstead..” – with a pointed, accusatory glare, Voight finally let go, shifting away. “This conversation is not over.” – he added, before making his way to the squad car.

The sirens blazing in the distance loudly were still no match for what was blazed inside of him when Hailey meekly approached him, seemingly out of nowhere, with practiced calm and gentleness in her motions as always. With a bandaged shoulder and a weak, but genuine smile he never knew was only meant for him, she walked forwards...

She was as beautiful as always, blonde locks framing angelical features, from eyes that drowned him like the sea to plump lips calling out to him, melodically, a tune he's spent years listening but never quite sang along to...

He knew each one of those features like the back of his hand.

“Jay..” – she called out softly, clearing her throat, her hand coming up to rest against his elbow. “What was that all about?”

Her feather-light touch seemed to ground him, if only for a moment..

He seemed to falter...reconsider...

“It was…it was nothing.”

Or maybe not...

He shook his head, leaning back, denying her much-too inviting touch with that last semblance of self-control he thought he no longer possessed...

“It didn’t sound like nothing…” - she tried again, probing cautiously.

“Just _drop_ it, Hailey, okay?"

Maybe he was wrong, he had no self-control anymore.

Because he just _snapped. _Loud and harsh and so tragically _undeserved..._

He snapped at the last person in the world who deserved it.

He bit down hard on his tongue, urging the words to un-speak themselves but it was too late…they already passed his lips.

And when he saw the unadulterated hurt flashing across those honest blue eyes hiding more pain than she let on, more stories than she ever said with words, he crumbled completely…

And she saw. She _knew_. 

Because she knew him like no one else.

“I’m not…” – she whispered, calm and steady, inching closer. “I’m not letting you do this.”

One step, one move and she was back by his side, latching onto his right arm with her good one and all the strength she had left in her...

“Talk to me..”

_Easier said than done. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Based on this lovely (and funny) post by @octaviareina on Tumblr, which I decided to expand on with a little more angst and tragedy..
> 
> You know, if they get Hailey hit or almost... i really hope for Jay to yell in Voight's face "it wouldn't happen if she were with me, we're partners, you bitch."
> 
> Dedicated to the user above and my Upstead crowd/co-captains of this amazing ship on Tumblr - @karihighman , @CpdHalstudFan.
> 
> P.S. This is what I have so far...I might take it further if anyone's intrigued by it. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm so sorry I haven't updated this in forever, guys. 
> 
> The quarantine has really messed with my writing but I'm back on track now, picking up on all of my abandoned ideas, hopefully. :)

_Talk to me._

The phrase would have come out so simple, straight-forward even, falling from her lips with the gentle thud of a meek request, if it wasn't for the pleading tone that accompanied every syllable as they erupted from Hailey's tense chest....

But it wasn't a _mere_ request, not by a long-shot. It was far more than that.

It was a choked plea begging to be released and answered, a helpless, yet unyielding plea to let her in now the way he never let anyone else in, past all the carefully constructed walls and defenses life forced him to put up and wear everyday...

An unnatural mask gradually becoming permanent....

One only she saw underneath.

She _ached_ to be his exception…just like, in all the ways that mattered, he was hers.

“I…I can’t.” – he choked out, weakly, all semblance of _whole_ in his voice simmering and breaking down into a faint whisper, much like he just did.

Shoulders slumped, neck bended over in her direction quizzically, almost begging her to see what he couldn’t say out loud and Jay stepped back...

Hailey's face fell in response, features shifting through a roller-coaster of emotions rapidly, eventually settling on something akin to _mournful..._

“I can’t…” - he repeated, shakier, trying to convince himself, if nothing else.

Convince himself that he hadn't just showed the entire world something that no one was supposed to know, something that needed to stay buried for the sake of everyone else but him…

Convince himself that he hadn’t just completely lost his head, acted first then pondered after...

Convince himself that there was _no_ reason for his violent outburst, no _other_ reason aside from pure, unadulterated rage and a natural instinct to protect his partner....

Because Hailey was his partner...

It was simply what he did, it was his duty.

That's all there was to it.

“Shhh…” – Hailey reached out, every low rumble of her mezzo-soprano voice shattering all the same until no other words were spoken between them anymore…or simply lingered in the air, making it drip with a million waves of tension, fighting each other for dominance…

It was all she could let out through nearly sealed lips without breaking down right there....

Because she couldn't tell him what seeing him like that just did to her....

How it hurt and twisted and cut into every inch of her mind and body deeper than any suspect could ever wound her....

She’d take a blade or a twist of the arm or even a bullet over this any day…

She wanted him to know….and she wondered if he did, if he understood what wasn’t being verbalized…

Then again, for half the time they’ve known each other, they didn’t even _need_ words…

And maybe Hailey had asked him to talk to her even if she failed to deliver that same courtesy…but much like she hasn’t demanded anything from him or anyone else in her entire life, she wouldn’t demand him to use his words, either…

Jay was already speaking now, perhaps more than he ever had…

All that lingered between them at the moment was a pair of trembling, slender fingers moving hesitantly, before inching upwards to slide across his cheek, comfortingly, following a route only they knew or perhaps a puzzle Hailey was dying to unravel and didn't even know how much until now...

Fingers belonging to her good arm, the same one she ached to tuck over his entire frame and never let go, keep him there with all the limited grip it could carry, safe and sound and away from all of this...

She’s known Jay for years and she’s never seen him like this.

If only she knew it was because of her. It was all because of her.

Her injuries didn't hurt. At all.

Only the sight before her did. And she didn't know how to put a stop to it, how to make it right again, how to pull a smile from that beautiful man before her now…

She had no clue how to chase away the conflict in every troubled shade of still so bright blue rapidly switching between her injured arm and that still visible cut on her lip....

She almost forgot it was even there, until she felt the faint taste of blood in her mouth, a cruel, bitter reminder of her own selfish actions…

Most of all, she despised that _he_ had to see her like this....

That her recklessness caused it all....

“I’m okay, see?” – she whispered after a while, quietly, almost with a hint of a laughter dancing in her strained voice, before pointing to the elastic band adorning her still achy shoulder. She needed a cast, asap.

Sooner, rather than later, she also needed to stop ignoring the non-verbal signals from the nurse who kept urging her to get into the ambulance already.

She knew the medical professional was growing impatient – but dear Lord, she was _this_ close to telling her to back the hell off, give her a minute, grant her a do-over, another chance to change it, flip it, take it back somehow…

To _fix_ all of this.

She couldn’t leave Jay, not now, not like this, lest they’d forcefully pull her hand from his face…

She couldn’t move it away. Not when it seemed to belong there and nowhere else.

It wasn’t much effort, it was such a simple, comforting and soul-crushingly fragile gesture. The weight of her hand resting against his cheek was nothing compared to the weight of everything he's done for her since the day they met…but somehow, she could tell it was mending, switching something in him…

_Her_ touch…

Maybe it had an impact.

Because the more she watched, the more she took note of how it seemed to be calming him down, easing up that familiar, worried crease around his brow until it gradually settled his stiff posture into a fallen, but halfway stable one…

Even if, by all intents and purposes, he was still crumbling underneath...

His tough exterior was holding by a thread right now...it wasn’t showing to anyone else but she could tell it was true.

Yet somehow…? It only made Jay _stronger_ to her, not weaker...

His vulnerability that she was witnessing like a privileged witness only made him even more achingly beautiful, in all understandings of the word. 

Maybe she was dreaming but she could have sworn she just heard Jay exhaling subtly in relief, breath hovering over the surface of her skin, sending tingles down her spine so effortlessly, like everything he did…

“I’m okay, Jay….”

She felt the need to say it again…

Or perhaps assumed _he_ needed to hear it more than _she_ needed to voice it…

She wasn’t wrong.

She’d say it however many times it was needed if it got him to relax, to stop worrying…

Before she could ponder upon her conflicted thoughts racing against each other, much like the race against the clock she was always under with the man before her, with a careful, gentle touch, Jay stopped her, instead…

His hand came up to find hers against the scruff of his beard, eyes shut tight almost painfully, savoring the sensation yet subtly pulling from it all at once, bottom lip quivering and the faintest hint of a lone tear lingering in his eye…

She didn’t need to see it…

She knew it was there, below the surface, controlled by years of suppression he's learned in the face of the world's most gruesome horrors…even when his eyelids covered that mass of endless blue she adored, she knew what it was underneath…

The mere thought destroyed her, ripped apart everything in her into tiny pieces, all in a New York minute...

Hailey never once could take it...least of all now.

Because she wasn’t worthy.

Because Jay Halstead's pain was her pain....

And she caused it...

She hurt her partner.

“I need to go before that nurse breaks my other arm…”

With that pitiful attempt at a joke, Hailey choked, the last bit of forced laughter in her voice, meant as some form of hollow encouragement dying down, spark by spark...

Much like the spark in them both dimming, too...

Or maybe only now being set alight.

“….but you’ll be okay over here, right?”

And perhaps Hailey wasn't good with words by design, she was no poet, no romantic, nothing but a fighter and a survivor...

But somehow, she’s never said more than she did now…

It sounded a lot like _I love you._

The one time she felt like they needed _actual_ words between them, not subtext or gestures that hid so much more….her throat tightened against itself and they vanished, raining down in her mind like a thunderstorm instead, lightning breaking the sky apart, dark, threatening clouds crashing with an ear-splitting rumble…

Not even the worst night in Chicago, a city where crime governed every street corner, where police sirens blazed erratically even on a quiet day could ever hope to match _that_ sound.

She couldn’t even halfway block it out enough for her to think, least of all turn it off completely.

Jay nodded softly in reassurance, as if saying…

_I am okay if you are._

As always, she said nothing else.

Nothing that mattered, anyway.

She simply got up on her tip toes, weakly, before lacing her good arm over his shoulder in a weak, one-arm hug...

Much like the red string of fate that had always connected them, one she was merely threading now...

And when callous hands, tore down by years of war, yet still so unbearably soft gently grazed her waist, too hesitant, as if he had no permission or even excuse to do it, she could have sworn something else broke in her.

Because she made him believe that….that he had no right to touch her like this...to touch her in any way, shape or form...

But she’d be lying if she said the feel of his broad, muscular frame against her petite one didn’t feel like coming home, didn't feel like being engulfed in a protective cloak of comfort and solace when all you've known was pain and tragedy...

Wordlessly, he picked her fragile upper body up in his much stronger arms, maintaining that same caution, like he genuinely thought she was in need of protection, knowing at a glance what she needed and what she didn't even before she did....

As always...

_I'd follow you anywhere, Hailey..._

_Of course I miss her, she's my partner._

Then again, Jay always seemed to be two steps ahead of her.

Then again, Jay always seemed to know.

_If there was anyone I'd follow blind, I'd follow you..._

And maybe, in her own way, so did she....

Maybe all this time, it was everything she's done - follow him around like a beacon of light, allow him to lead the way, lead her down the right path when all she knew before was the wrong...

“I…I have to go get this in a cast. But I’ll be fine…”– she reassured against his jacket, not moving a single inch because she wasn’t sure she could find the strength to, gently asking him to make that first step so she didn't have to. He was finding it equally hard to let go now, hands still hovering near her frame, so close to touching but not quite anymore, instead touching more of the air surrounding them. “Jay, I’m fine…”

Eventually,they did let go...

His grip loosened...

“You have to get checked up, too, okay?”

“Hailey….”

“Promise me…” – she added, leaning back just a little to see him better. Her partner was still looking down, defeteadly, evading every flicker of tortured blue blended with dimming grey questioning him. Because he had no answers. “Promise me, Jay…”

Gulping ever-so-slightly, he nodded, reluctantly letting her go completely…

And not just physically…

“Okay, I’ll go…”

“You should talk to Voight, too…that looked serious. Whatever it was, you can patch it up, okay? You’re like a son to him, you know that, don’t you?”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Jay nodded again, clearly not convinced…

But he’d do as she asked…

Now, more than ever, he’d do anything she asked…

Because he just saw his entire life flashing before his eyes, as if a sick, twisted director orchestrating everything had decided to play the worst case scenario of how today could've gone on loop, all traces of reason and sanity gone, blended into fine dust, sprinkled at his feet...

He saw it _all.._.

He saw Hailey falling down without getting back up this time, overpowered by a much stronger assailant…he saw the scumbag finish the job, pull the last breath out of her with the touch of a trigger, he saw the paramedics failing to resuscitate her, he saw her flat-lining again and again and again in the ambulance…he could almost smell the sickly sweet traces of chorine in the air, see the contour of the familiar hospital walls closing in on him…

Walls he’s seen too many times, walls he never wanted to see again…

Especially not around _her._

He could almost picture Hailey’s lifeless body on a gurney, being carried further and further away from him...

And he didn’t know _why_ all it took was for her to get wounded for his mind to go _that_ far…or even what brought it on.

Why had he seen all of this? Where did it come from? And most importantly, why couldn’t he get _any_ of it out of his messed-up head?

It seemed _so real_…

Jay had never needed to be away from here more than now…

With another feather-light touch to her good shoulder, a brief squeeze if nothing else, he let her go, watching her get in the ambulance with a newfound sense of yearning, bubbling in his chest like sweet euphoria or bitter torture…

It showed all over his face like every micro-expression had been carefully crafted, brought to life by the most talented painter - gaze softening ever-so-slightly around the corners, lips curving into a weak smile he had only ever reserved for her, a hint of tragic hope blossoming in his chest, spreading a warmth that seemed to replace the numbness, shoot him back to life…

He couldn’t remember feeling that for anyone in years, maybe forever…

Not since Erin…

Not since he thought she was _the one._...

As Hailey's frame eventually disappeared from his sight, his chest rumbled with something else now, akin to _guilt_, pulsating, urging him to act…if only he knew what action he needed to take.

With the visage of a broken child in dire need of being held and fixed, he sighed, before breezing past the quizzical, worried faces of his family, the Intelligence Team, all waiting on answers to so many questions....

_What happened to you?_

_What was that all about? _

_Are you okay?_

Adam, Kevin, Rojas, they all looked, one by one, helplessly, not saying anything even if they were all dying to…

The broken detective had no answers to offer....so he didn't.

Jay walked away…

Not even Voight’s stern, but empathetic gaze inching into his back, yet somehow still reading into him from afar in a way few people could was enough to stop him, make him reconsider....

His steps were already ahead of his mind...

Without a word spoken to anyone, Jay walked away.

He’d go to the hospital, sometime…

When _that_ image in his head ceased to taunt him, ceased to play itself all over again like his worst nightmare, once it began to fade enough to let him breathe....

Once it stopped _hurting…_

Enough for him not to feel every taunting sequence squeeze his heart until there was no blood left to pour out of it and splash all over the floor…

Right now he needed to be alone.

He needed to go home.


End file.
